Once Upon a Lady (The Soul Mate Tree Book 8)

by Addie Jo Ryleigh

  Reluctantly he eased back, maintaining his hold on her, an arm’s length away. He had to remember possessing Lady Kate came with a price. A recompense he refused to forfeit.

  Breath labored, his gaze roamed her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed with a heated longing and, coupled with her kiss-swollen lips, threatened to undo him. Thankfully he remained strong and, rather than drawing her back into his arms, he released her.

  “That was unwise.” His voice roughened, exposing how deeply she affected him. Not that the swelling of his cock could be mistaken behind his tight breeches. Thankfully the cut of his coat concealed the evidence.

  The passion in her eyes cleared. She had evidently grasped the situation and how damning it could be. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

  He laughed halfheartedly at the truth of her announcement. He’d never regretted his lack of gentlemanly status until now. A gentleman would claim the woman before him. Tie her to his side within the bounds of matrimony.

  As fiercely as Jackson desired her, he wouldn’t submit to marriage to make her his.

  Especially now, with his father’s ultimatum hanging over his head. If he discovered Jackson’s interest in Kate, dishonorable or not, the man would attempt to force a union. Something Jackson could not permit. Just as he couldn’t displease his father and risk being cut off. His plans depended on his allowance.

  “I thought we’d already debated this. Either way, you would be a fool to believe otherwise,” he finally replied, hoping she’d prove stronger than him. The lingering hint of longing in her eyes, as she gazed at him, suggested otherwise. If not for his father forcing him into Society, he’d be far from Kate . . . and the ton.

  Eventually her eyes narrowed, removing all traces of passion. “Enough. I demand you relinquish my ring.” Her wrath proved as formidable as a kitten.

  Jackson chuckled. “I don’t have it with me.” A lie since the delicate band currently sat hidden in his pocket. Inexplicably, he’d been unable to leave the house without it.

  “But . . . but you said . . .”

  Her stammer was rather adorable.

  “You are confusing me with a gentleman again.”

  A very unladylike huff snuck past her tight lips, yet she stewed in silence.

  Since the taut bow of her mouth only tempted him to employ a kiss to ease its harsh line, he broke the quiet, though the words escaping his lips were far from wise. “Three days.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Don’t answer. He needed to walk away; end the insanity before he lost everything.

  “Three days. Meet me for three days and then I will return your ring.” Apparently, his sanity had long fled.

  “Why would I believe you? You said yourself, you are no gentleman,” she mocked. “Besides, I’m betrothed. I shouldn’t even be here with you.”

  He stepped closer, ignoring the plunge in the center of his chest at learning she belonged to another man. “Yet here you are.”

  Her eyes blazed as she held his regard. His wild sprite wanted to refute him, flay him with her words. Yet, as he edged closer and her face clouded with passion, he knew her incapable of denying the pull between them.

  “Three days, Kate, and you shall have your ring.”

  Chapter 7

  Horrible, insufferable, ungentlemanly, unbearable . . . handsome, arousing, tempting . . . blast! Kate halted the direction her thoughts were traveling. She would not dwell kindly on the coercing scoundrel, however sorely her body craved more of his touch.

  Two simple meetings and everything she knew had begun to spin backward. In a fortnight, she and Blackthorn would announce their engagement and she would finally gain her father’s approval. She had no time to waste, consorting with a man who had zero interest in being a gentleman.

  If Blackthorn ever discovered her sneaking about to meet another man, regardless of the reasoning behind such action, he would never marry her. Her father would undoubtedly disown her.

  Why, then, take the risk? Though irreplaceable, the ring was hardly a reason to jeopardize her future. If alive, her aunt would understand the loss.

  Having already dismissed her maid, Kate studied her reflection in her dressing table mirror. She still possessed the same brown stands of hair, the same deep but unremarkable brown eyes, and attractive yet unassuming facial features she’d had before the Mosley’s ball . . . but she felt different.

  Despite his handsomeness, Blackthorn never engaged all her senses. The touch of his hand aroused no quivers throughout her body. To preserve her sanity, she pushed aside how the idea of spending every day of her existence as his wife—and bed partner—did nothing but bore her.

  She knew she’d have no complaints being his duchess. Patient and kind, he wouldn’t mistreat her.

  It wasn’t his fault he didn’t stir her desire.

  Desires unknown until Jackson’s firm lips had moved steadily against hers.

  If he hadn’t pulled away, she feared his kiss would have drowned her in pleasure . . . and she would have welcomed every moment.

  Scrutinizing her reflection, she shook her head, trying to erase the far-off haze looking back at her, brought about by thoughts of Jackson Cooper who was nothing but a scoundrel bent on tempting her into reckless behavior.

  Why had she strayed into the grove? Everything would have remained simple if she hadn’t stumbled upon the mystical tree. Nothing had been the same since the rush pulsing through her when she’d palmed the smooth trunk, dotted with coarse bark.

  The same awareness that heated her blood whenever Jackson touched her.

  “You’re being foolish,” Kate mumbled to the empty room. “It was just a tree. He is just a man. And you will not fall for his trickery.”

  Finding no answer staring back at her, Kate stood and retrieved her spencer from the bed. She had less than an hour to escape her maid, depart the house, and meet Jackson at his appointed time.

  A sleepless night, plagued with thoughts of his challenge—and kiss—hadn’t put Kate in an accommodating mood. When she’d finally awoken from a fitful sleep, she’d had every notion of not obeying his request. It would serve the man right to be left waiting.

  But she feared what he’d do with her ring if she didn’t show. She’d no doubt the man was scandalous enough to appear on her father’s doorstep with her jewelry in hand. The last thing she needed was to explain to her father how it came to be in Jackson’s possession. It would ruin everything.

  Until she reclaimed her ring, Mr. Jackson Cooper controlled her future.

  Now, if only her body would cease tingling at the thought.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jackson pulled his watch from his pocket. She was late. Yet he’d have been more surprised if she’d appeared on time. Kate was too strongminded to succumb easily, even if he had the upper hand.

  He replaced the timepiece, a smile twitching his lips. Oh, how he would love to tussle with her feisty spirit in the comfort of his bed. He’d no doubt if he allowed it, Kate’s passion would burn him alive.

  Just his luck he would never experience it. As much as he teased her, he would not be partaking in the sensual delights of Lady Katherine Baxton.

  Despite hungering for her beyond reason, Jackson retained enough sense to know where such a liaison would end . . . in front of a pastor. Especially with his father on his heels about finding a wife.

  After their parting, it had been an easy feat to discover her full name—with title—and the fact that she was the daughter of a duke. Two displeasing details, but neither were enough to sway his longing to see her again.

  Jackson had only a sennight until he sailed away from England. And, lust aside, he planned to get his fill of Kate by then.

  Standing beside the water, Jackson scanned the pristine grass, waiting for his wood nymph to appea
r from the trees peeking through the morning fog.

  Despite her sputtering denial at the garden party, she would come. Just as he’d been powerless to keep from enticing her into meeting him—even knowing she’d be married soon—something drove them to be reckless.

  According to his brother, the betrothal had yet to be announced. After he’d parted ways with Kate—or more accurately, after she spouted a very unladylike insult at him and raced back to the gathering—he’d tracked down Edward with some important questions.

  While giving Jackson a knowing look as to why he’d be interested, Edward had divulged that, official or not, everyone reckoned it was simply a matter of time before the Duke of Blackthorn and Lady Katherine announced their engagement.

  An unfamiliar burn flaring in his gut at the news had sent Jackson storming from the festivities. It had taken several snifters of brandy to douse the fire.

  While still in his cups he’d concluded her association with Blackthorn didn’t concern him. He had no desire to have her as his wife. What he wanted from Kate was far more straightforward. And since he couldn’t have what he truly craved, he would settle for more of her, any way he could get it.

  If tricking her into spending a few hours with him until he departed England was what it took, he was enough of a rogue to do it.

  A pair of ducks splashing along the shore of the glistening pond broke into his thoughts.

  “Couldn’t you have picked somewhere less . . . visible?” Distracted by the fowl, he’d missed her approach but there was no overlooking the arousal Kate’s elegant voice triggered.

  His lips pulled into a grin at her clear irritation. Knowing it would ruffle her feathers, he allowed a long second to pass upon his acknowledgement of her.

  When he did, he almost lost his breath.

  How had he forgotten how stunningly beautiful she was? Not even the scowl marring her pink mouth diminished her loveliness. Her temper only enhanced her allure. He liked knowing she wasn’t the delicate lady she portrayed herself as . . . and he was probably the only one privy to her secret.

  “Good morning, Kate,” he teased.

  “Why are we here?” The line of her lips eased but her features were far from inviting.

  “To enjoy ourselves.” He gestured to the wooden rowboat behind him.

  Her eyes grew wide in horror. “You want me to get in that rickety thing? You must be joking.”

  “I wouldn’t allow you to drown. Though having your wet body clinging to me as I come to your rescue does sound promising.”

  Her gaze locked on his. “I’m glad to see you are staying true to yourself and your lack of gentlemanly behavior.”

  A deep laugh tumbled from his chest, knowing her outrage was feigned. She hid it well but he saw it, as clearly as a spring morning. She longed for adventure as much as he wanted to give it to her.

  “You, my dear, make the morning so much brighter.” He swept his arm toward the deceptively sturdy boat. “Shall we?”

  “I can’t be seen with you.”

  His excitement lost its fine edge as he remembered the reason why. Multiple reasons why, he amended. Mostly, her approaching wedding and his wish to avoid being leg-shackled. Well, he wouldn’t permit any of that to ruin the moments he’d planned for them.

  So as not to alarm her, he approached her slowly. “It is early. Too early for anyone to be about. I come here often and I’m never bothered. I promise, you are safe with me.”

  As the words left his mouth, he silently vowed each one to be true. Though he longed to tumble her to the ground and find his pleasure between her legs, he’d place her wellbeing above any, or all. Surely an unaccustomed sentiment for him.

  Her eyes flickered across his face, most likely looking for a hint of dishonesty. She wouldn’t find any. A more serious promise had never been offered.

  When he held out his hand, not even a heartbeat passed before her palm slid against his. At her touch, the soggy ground beneath his boots shifted. Just as it had the night of the ball, something drew him toward her.

  And rendered him defenseless.

  Chapter 8

  During her nighttime worrying and through her one-sided debate while dressing, Kate had forgotten one simple fact . . . Jackson called to her in a way she’d never felt.

  When he scooped her into his arms, unconcerned with the water lapping at his pristine boots, and placed her on the bench of the wooden boat, her heart skipped a beat.

  Thoughts of being the dutiful daughter soared from her mind. She simply wanted to be Kate, a woman who enjoyed the company of a man with no expectations.

  Though, she doubted Jackson had no expectations. She simply chose to bypass what they might be since she had no intention of falling for them.

  The small craft dipped precariously and she grabbed each side, sighing in relief as it adjusted upright after Jackson took his seat.

  The stillness of the morning surrounded her and with the fog encasing them, Kate felt as if they were the world’s only inhabitants.

  He’d been correct when he’d said it was too early for others to be about. Her maid had probably thought Kate mad when she’d rung for help in dressing, a full three hours earlier than on a typical morning. Kate just hoped her father wouldn’t notice her absence. She still had to sneak back into the house.

  As Jackson took up the oars and freed the boat from the muck-thick bottom of the pond, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the scenery.

  Which happened to include the dangerously handsome man sitting across from her.

  As with the last two days, he had foregone wearing a hat. Since it allowed her to study the slight wave to his dark hair, she approved of his aversion to headwear. The ends brushed against the collar of his deep blue coat. The crisp white of his cravat highlighted the bronze of his skin. The man clearly appreciated the outdoors.

  Given how his coat sleeves bunched with the effort of coaxing the vessel into deeper waters—and the strength of his arms as he’d held her—she doubted he spent his time outside idly.

  “I wish I could read your mind,” he said, as he maneuvered the boat. “I have a feeling I would approve of your thoughts.”

  Fully prepared this time, she lowered her head so the brim of her bonnet hid the heat in her cheeks. She really must stop blushing around him.

  “Remove your bonnet.”

  Her head snapped up. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I want to see you. Remove your bonnet,” he demanded, quite arrogantly she thought.

  Frowning, she crossed her arms over her bosom. “I think not.”

  Undeterred, his laugh traveled over the water like the tinny ripples drifting from the moving oars. “We are alone. What is the harm?”

  “I am a lady.”

  “A detail that has not gone unnoticed.”

  Kate didn’t require years of experience to understand the emotion flaring in Jackson’s eyes as they swept her body. The cool morning breeze did nothing to diffuse the heat his simple gesture ignited within her.

  His eyes held hers. “Kate, I know you wish to be rid of it. To feel the air move unhindered against your face.”

  Having lost the ability to form words as his deep voice encased her, she wordlessly gave her bonnet ribbon a gentle tug. Her regard fixed on him, she pulled it off before placing it on the bench.

  The deed complete, she felt exposed. But lingering behind that, a sense of freedom. With Jackson, she wasn’t bound by duty or forced to be a partial version of herself.

  Jackson’s trickery might be underhanded, with the potential to ruin her, but he’d never asked her to be anyone other than herself. To the world, it might be a minor detail. To Kate . . . everything.

  “You are beautiful,” Jackson whispered, the words as soft as the birds chattering in
the trees.

  Today wasn’t the first time she’d heard the sentiment, but something about Jackson’s tenderly issued compliment touched her deeper, as if he meant it in a way that went beyond her physical appearance.

  As he lifted the oars and rested them along the sides of the boat, Kate realized they’d reached the center of the pond. Away from the shore and surrounded by the crystal water, it felt as if they were a world away from reality. A notion dangerous to her future. She mustn’t forget why she was here.

  Clearing her mind of all the inviting thoughts Jackson incited, she forced strength into her words. “I need to return home soon. I shouldn’t even be here.”

  Her eyes on anything but him, the sudden rocking of the boat startled her.

  Jackson had left his seat to kneel at her feet.

  Frantically reaching for something to steady the jarring movement, her hands flew to his solid shoulders . . . the same moment his large hands grasped her waist.

  Even with her gloves and layers of clothing barring the feel of his skin against her fingers, she felt his heat, his strength. Her gaze flicked to his face, positioned mere inches from hers.

  Fingers tightening on her waist, he finally spoke. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t,” she lied, hearing the breathlessness in her voice. She doubted he would have believed her, even without her sturdy grip on his shoulders.

  “Sweet, you almost had both of us taking a morning swim,” he retorted.

  “Entirely your fault. Whatever possessed you to do acrobatics in a floating vessel?”

  His laughter once again held her spellbound. “First, kneeling is hardly an acrobatic feat. Secondly, I believe most boats float.”

  His mockery didn’t concern her. Not when his fingers continued to twitch around her waist and the movement of his mouth had her wanting to sway closer.